


Blonde and Beautiful

by phminehalo



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 05:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1214761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phminehalo/pseuds/phminehalo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I could have stayed with my family... And I almost went back... But with this bullet in my heart, I can't leave."<br/>With all the commotion in an roaring New York, Anna knows that a showgirl like her can't possibly love a woman wearing pants... and a gun.<br/>-1923, New York City-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ace of Spades

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends, this is our first fic together and we wanna thank you for reading! If you like this please give of some feedback. Harsh criticism is appreciated.

     America. Land of opportunity. Definitely NOT nearly as cold. Automobiles zoom about, busy as the city is, it can be quiet sometimes too. These things I've noticed since I immigrated here 4 months ago. My life in Norway was boring and dull. My family was not “rich” per-se, but they could hold their own with a single daughter. The boys all looked the same, the houses were too familiar, and the grass was too green. You’d think me crazy for wanting to move away from a life that would have an easy future for me. Hell, my parents sure did. They’d set me up with a boy from a village high in the mountains...Kenny? Koala? Christmas? I don’t even remember. They thought that he’d “make a woman” out of me with his “big arms” and... well... you can guess.

     These days, I run some shows for some speakeasies through Aedan. He’s an odd guy, doesn't always quite know how to treat a woman. Certainly not the kind of man who’d make for a loyal husband, if you ask me. We don’t speak much. I’m terrible at English. When we do “talk,” it’s mostly through a series of strange... weird... hand motions and body language. Let’s just say it got to the point where we both silently agreed to only “speak” in private quarters. But as far as I can tell, he hired me for my looks and possibly my resemblance to an Irish woman. With red hair, teal eyes, and so many freckles that I could resemble something called a “cheetah,” you really would think me Irish. But no, I’m a true Norwegian, whose usual stereotype is pale/fair skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair. Certainly not me. Aedan didn't realize this until I started speaking my native tongue. But it seemed like he didn't care as long as I kept my mouth shut. Maybe I made him feel like home? I just don’t know.  

     With all the hustle and bustle of New York, it’s really not at all what I pictured. You hear all these stories across the seas about how it’s easy to make it “big” in America. The musical wonders of Jazz like Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington. It makes a young girl like me dream of fame and fortune. But now that I’m here, that’s all it feels like. A dream. Something that could never come true for a little girl like me. Oh yes… I’m a woman in New York in 1923… Let’s not forget that. I can’t walk down a street without a man wolf whistling at me. He can do that. But if I even thought about giving him a look over, Gods forbid. If I hadn’t watched a poor girl, just a bit younger than me, being surrounded by shady men who had perverted thoughts written all over their faces, I might not’ve learned this. And if I hadn't kicked one man’s balls and grabbed the girl’s arm, I might not be running for my life right now. 


	2. Queen of Diamonds

“That bitch! Get her!”

_“Heels! Dammit how I hate heels! It’s okay, we can lose ‘em in the crowds”_ Was all I could think while running with the girl’s hand in mine. Those greasy men were tailing us. Two or three now. The other must have stayed on the ground. We ducked into an alley, I was looking for the shortest route to the main roads. If we would get there, we’d be safe, for the most part. All the feces and dead animals that lined up against the walls of the buildings didn't make the sprinting easy. I could hear the girl behind me gagging. Either she’d never walked this part of town before or she was just new. I was used to it after such a short time here, considering my room wasn't very far from where we’d started running. I could see the main street from where we were. Just one more block. One more. But shit, the girl was falling behind me. She’s heaving and she’s tired. She’s dragging me down with her. _“Sorry miss, if I’m gonna save your life, you’re gonna have to try a hell of a lot harder than that.”_   I yanked on her hand as hard as I could and practically dragged her the rest of the way.

“There they are!!”

_“Shit. It’s okay, just keep going. This isn't your first showdown.”_  Buggies were lined up on every sidewalk, autos drove up and down the streets. An occasional dead horse to avoid. Left. Right. Don’t get hit. Keep moving forward. Keep running. I couldn't hear the men behind us anymore. We’d crossed the street and moved upward towards the main square. I pulled the lady into a cafe and sat her down. Good, she was wearing a hat. I pulled it down so it covered her eyes. She got the message and grabbed a menu to make it look like she had been there a while. I grabbed a preset cup and stirred the spoon in it like it was full. We sat just far enough from the window to look out. I swept my eyes briefly outside as the men ran by without so much as a glance in our direction. One minute… Two minutes… Three. Good. We’re clear.

Then I heard giggling.

I looked up at the girl to see her face red from exhaustion, but laughter nonetheless. Now that I could actually look at her, she was pretty cute. Short brunette hair with an odd cut. Almost… pixie-like… Certainly not a popular cut for this day and age. Green eyes and a face that was just barely dusted with freckles. She was definitely too cute to resist. And that was something that simple doesn't bode well in a town like this with perverted men… and the occasional woman. She was still giggling fits and I found myself laughing too. People were looking at us weirdly but it was clear we didn’t care. After a very long minute or two, we finally calmed down enough between breaths to look at each other. She started talking to me, but I could barely understand English.

“... I… Thank you… Ship… Town… Name?”

I simply put a hand on my chest “Anna.” and she seemed to get the message from my thick accent that I didn’t really understand her fully. She put a finger on her lips and thought carefully about what she would say next.

“... Country?”

“Norge… ah… Nor… way..” I managed to get out. She had this look of disappointment written on her face.

“Oh...”

Her next words were too low for me to hear. She was about to say something directly to me but we were interrupted when a brown woman in uniform dress came up to us and asked if we wanted a drink. I shook my head but the girl smiled bright and I’m sure she asked for a black coffee. The waitress smiled and nodded at us before walking off to the back. Something about this girl was particularly genuine. Most women in this town don’t even acknowledge colored folk so well in these parts. I’d heard rumors back home that such behavior was much worse in the South and that lynching was practically a sport. It’s one of the reasons I haven’t moved from this city yet. The brunette looked up at me with a smile and out a hand on her chest, mimicking what I had done,

“Rapunzel.”

_“Wait… like the bedtime story?... She doesn't even seem like the type of damsel who’s been stuck in a tower her whole life.”_   I laughed at the thought. The brunette’s face was painted red yet again, and she was pouting with embarrassment. I only laughed harder. I stifled myself from further mocking and reached for a pencil and notepad from my handbag. I’d run into this language problem enough times to learn a few tricks of the trade. Charades, if you will. She watched my movements and seemingly understood what I was trying to do. I certainly wasn't the best at drawing, but it would have to suffice. First I started off with something simple, a stick figure with braided hair on a boat-like… Thing… And the number 4 written just above it. I looked up at Rapunzel but she was still examining it. Her face looked like a light bulb had turned on suddenly.

“Boat. Sailed. Four years?” She questioned slowly.

I shook my head and held up 4 fingers.

“Oh! Four months!” I nodded. Then I thought about her gagging while we were in the alleyway, raised an eyebrow and pointed a finger questioningly at her.

“Me?” I nodded again as she held up her index finger

“One day”

Well that made a helluva lot more sense. Fresh fish meat. Easy pickings for the chumps that were after her. I took my pencil and draw a stick figure that just barely resembled her and another stick figure with a question mark in the head. I wanted to know if she was here for someone. She understood and held her hand out for my pencil. I gave it to her and watched her draw carefully. She bent over the table and gripped the pencil rather hard. Like she’d never drawn before or even used a pencil. She bit her tongue out and squinted her eyes. It was… cute… really cute actually. I found myself leaning on one hand with my head tilted and examining the rest of her. Lightly tanned skin below the hem of a salmon dress that was covered in a light brown shawl. I wondered if she had freckles anywhere else…

“... Anna?”

I jumped up at my name and inwardly smacked myself for such thinking. _“She’s a woman. Not something to ogle at! You’re no better than those pathetic excuses for men if you let that happen again.”_ I shook my head slightly and went to grab the notepad but my hand bumped into something and the next thing I noticed was the burning sensation that spread across my hand like fire. I yelped loudly and stood up far too quickly, knocking over my chair. Shaking my hand wildly to relieve the pain, I looked down at the table and noticed that I’d knocked my hand into a cup of coffee. When did that get there? _“How long was I staring at her?”_   This time, I was truly embarrassed by the scene I’d made and that people were staring at us yet again. I carefully picked up my chair and sat back down. I felt my face burn up. I was blushing. Surely, I was blushing. I heard giggling again and looked up. She was holding a hand over her mouth and trying very hard to hold it all back. _“Great going Anna. Why don’t you make a fool of yourself in front of the beautiful girl again? Wait, what?”_ I stopped thinking when the brown woman came up to us with some cloth and helped wipe up the mess. Rapunzel and I thanked her in our own ways and the woman seemed really appreciative for the words before walking off back to work. Now that my attention wasn't as distracted, the brunette carefully pushed the paper in front of me. Carefully as in “let’s not make another mess, shall we?” I smacked myself internally again and looked at the picture. It was a portrait… really well drawn too… I couldn’t even look at who it was for a second because the pencil work was so fine. Every strand of hair. Even nose hair! This girl was amazing with artwork. _“Oh my gods. What if I’m sitting across from someone who could make a real name in fine arts? Wait. Stop thinking. Look at the damn face as a whole already and not just the hair.”_   I practically zoomed my vision out and looked at the bigger picture this time. Wait a minute… I know this face…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo you guys have no idea how hard it is to portray a conversation between two people who don't speak a common language. I hope I did a good job. I wrote the whole first two chapters on my own and just so you know, I've never written anything this dynamic before. Criticism is much appreciated and we love support.   
> Sincerely, Chris ( thereisnohopeforhumanz.tumblr.com )

**Author's Note:**

> This is a beta chapter  
> Let us know on tumblr if you want more.
> 
> http://thereisnohopeforhumanz.tumblr.com/  
> http://his-name-is-alonso.tumblr.com/


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